


Tickled Pink

by castingashadow



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 06:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castingashadow/pseuds/castingashadow
Summary: Who on Earth would've thought that Anthony J. Crowley, demon and eternal nuisance, would be ticklish?





	Tickled Pink

_ Ticklish. _

That was one word the demon Crowley had never really used for himself as a descriptor. Menacing, sure. Intimidating, obviously. But ticklish...no. He'd always thought that particular frivolity was better suited to the soft and fluffy realm of the angels than a demon like himself. He'd delivered the  _ Antichrist _ for Hell's sake. He wasn't a soft being that was made for  _ tickling. _

That's what he thought, at least.

For thousands of years he and his heavenly companion Aziraphale had pointedly avoided touching each other beyond a brisk handshake or a hand on a shoulder, the most casual of touches only. Mostly because for a time, they both believed that their skin touching would cause burns that were only rivaled by holy water, in Crowley's case, and infernal fire in Aziraphale's. And that was a perfectly acceptable arrangement for a very,  _ very _ long time. And so it went through revolutions and wars and all manner of messy human history that doesn't bear retelling in this story for the sake of brevity. But there came a time that the two of them finally managed to get their respective heads out of their asses and realize that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , there was something else going on between them than a frankly remarkable partnership and, dare they say it, a remarkable friendship as well. This all happened very suddenly and in a very natural way of course, like humans had been doing it for years and would continue doing so until the end of time.

Enter Aziraphale's bookshop. Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting in the back room on their preferred sofas contently, sipping at a bottle of wine that the angel had uncorked after the Apocawasn't to celebrate their victory and continued lifespans, when the demon looked up from his glass and suddenly had a very unwanted epiphany when his yellow irises met with angelic blue;  _ He was madly in love with this tartan-wearing halo-wearing fool and he hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it.  _ Fortunately for him, Aziraphale was having a similar epiphany and rather than looking completely baffled by this new train of thought, he just sighed in a soft and put-upon way before migrating from his soft armchair to join his friend on the plush sofa he was currently sprawled over. No better time than the present to get these feelings out, he supposed.

“Crowley, dear...I'm afraid I've got something I simply must tell you. Otherwise I'll burst with it.” Aziraphale nibbled gently on his lower lip and his hands got to fidgeting in his lap, a sure sign of his nerves that he either couldn't or wouldn't control no matter how bad it got. He shifted closer and lowered his gaze to the quilt draped over the sofa, cheeks warming a little despite his lack of a heart or even real blood to form a blush with. “I'm...well, I'm afraid I've been putting this off for quite some time, since the  _ dawn _ of time, in fact. I've- that is to say, I am...ah, bugger it I can't seem to say what needs saying.” A nervous little chuckle left his rosy mouth and he looked up to find that Crowley was looking at him as if he'd hung the moon, amber eyes wide and his pupils dilated just slightly like a cat in a dim room.  _ Or a snake, Aziraphale. Use some sense.  _ “Crowley...? Is everything quite alright, you're looking a bit stran--”

Aziraphale was surprised to suddenly find himself with a lapful of Crowley, long fingers on his plump cheeks and those damned eyes locked on his own as if searching his soul for whatever answer he was seeking to a question he dared not voice. The red haired demon swallowed thickly and leaned into press his lips to Aziraphale's, almost made contact in fact, but he stopped. “Angel...I might not be able to stop myself if I do this. I've been waiting for you to open that blasted mouth of yours about this for decades now, I want this so badly I'm afraid I'll discorporate if I don't get my hands on you this instant.” That desperation earned him a shy smile from the angel beneath him and Aziraphale closed that last few inches himself, soft thick fingers resting ever so slightly on Crowley's bony hips as their lips met. It wasn't a particularly spectacular kiss, not very skilled and not too coordinated or worth describing, but what happened next...well, it surprised them both far more than the realization of their shared feelings, that's for sure.

They'd moved from the soft couch to Aziraphale's rarely used bed and as they slowly and lovingly undressed each other, the angel's affectionate nature compelled him to lean into Crowley's narrow chest and pepper him with kisses. Perfectly fine...except Crowley felt something strange building in himself at that delicate touch. Probably nothing. But when Aziraphale's kisses continued and that strange feeling grew with each brush of soft lips over his skin, Crowley realized with mounting horror that he was about to laugh.  _ Because he was fucking ticklish.  _ Aziraphale was none the wiser of course, he was simply doing what he felt was the right thing to do given the situation so he was completely blindsided by the noise he heard Crowley make when his own lips were drifting softly down the demon's ribcage. It sounded a little rusty and unused, but it was unmistakable.

“Crowley...are you  _ laughing _ ?” The look Aziraphale got for that question was equal parts murderous and ashamed, but the giggling had barely tapered off when the angel grinned and ducked his head to nibble gently on the flat plane of the demon's stomach, which brought on another peal of laughter and caused Crowley to nearly wriggle away from him. “You're  _ ticklish _ ! Oh, goodness me.” Crowley just huffed in response and pulled Aziraphale up to kiss him properly as his chest shook with the remains of his laughter. It felt...surprisingly good to laugh with Aziraphale, he'd decided. He wasn't going to be mocked or made fun of, and the smile it brought to his angel's sweet face was one of the purest things the demon had personally ever seen.

That being said...it became quickly apparent that anything beyond their shirtless kissing was a near impossibility. Every time Aziraphale's gentle fingers brushed over Crowley's skin to entice him, the poor demon was reduced to a giggling writhing mass of limbs under his touch and that, in turn, made  _ him _ start giggling until they were both curled in on each other and prodding ribs and tummies and everywhere else they could think of to start the giggles off again.

The sun rose to find Crowley curled up asleep with his cheek pillowed on Aziraphale's chest, long fingers tucked into the soft curls of hair on his chest as the demon snored away quietly. Aziraphale himself wasn't quite asleep, though. He was looking down at the fluff of red hair that belonged to the creature he'd come to care for more than he'd ever expected to care for anyone...much less a  _ demon _ . But there he was, glowing from the inside and smiling gently down at his counterpart, nay,  _ partner _ , with that particular moony gaze that only people who were deeply in love were capable of.

“Oh, Crowley...whatever shall I do with you.”

  
  
  



End file.
